


Pass Me a Band Aid, Would You?

by snailhands



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Minor medical care (stitches etc!), Stanford is still a big baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailhands/pseuds/snailhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford is constantly running into trouble, but you're always there to pick up the pieces when he gets hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pass Me a Band Aid, Would You?

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a couple of scenes that mention blood/serious injury, so if you're sensitive to that kind of thing then take care!

It's 11 at night when your phone begins to buzz from its place on your bedside table. Bleary eyed and half asleep, you fumble for it blindly and bring it to your ear. 

"I hope this is good." You murmur hoarsely, automatically annoyed by the disruption to your sleeping schedule. You barely get the sentence out before a pained voice breaks over the receiver. 

"It's Ford, I need your help. There's been- well there's been an incident and uh, I'm bleeding. A lot."   
You're out of bed in seconds, cradling your cell phone between your shoulder and cheek as you hurriedly pull on a sweater, jeans and your boots.   
"Stanford?! What's going on? Where are you?" The questions tumble from you as panic begins to set in. What the hell has he done this time? 

"It's fine! I'm at the Shack, just got a little carried away is all." Ford gives a strained chuckle but it's closely followed by a vicious coughing fit. "Had a run in with a terribly annoyed gremloblin, I'm afraid I need some help patching myself up." 

You barely refrain from rolling your eyes. You've told him a thousand times not to run off into danger without any back up, but the idiot is convinced that he can manage on his own. You dart into your bathroom and grab your first aid kit before you hurry out the front door.   
"Stay still, you idiot. I'm five minutes away." You huff, jumping into your beat up car. "Try to stem the bleeding as much as you can, but don't move about too much."   
You hang up as you start the engine, gunning it towards the Mystery Shack. A few hazardous turns later finds your car parked haphazardly outside the Mystery Shack. Still a little dazed from the abrupt wake up call, you stumble from the drivers seat, medi kit in hand, and rush to the Shack's front door.   
You try the handle, surprised to find it on the latch and quietly nudge it open.   
"Ford?...." You call out, keeping your voice low but strong enough to carry.   
"In h-here...." Ford's weakened voice comes from the kitchen.   
Your feet are carrying you towards the Pines' family's kitchen before Ford's even finished his sentence.   
"This better be good, Stanford, it's nearly midnigh-" You stop mid scolding, at the sight of the scarlet splattered kitchen.   
"Throw me a band aid, would you?" Ford says with a weak smile.   
Your reaction is immediate; heedless of the bloodied floor tiles, you drop to your knees and yank open the first aid kit.   
"You bloody great _idiot_!" You snap as you cut open his tacky, stained shirt. "How long have you been sitting here?!"   
Stanford shrugs one shoulder, surprisingly nonchalant for a man covered in his own blood.   
"You could've bled to death! Where's Stanley?"   
"Away, went to visit an old friend."   
You sigh, of course the one time Stan isn't here Ford winds up in some life threatening situation. Typical.   
Grimacing at the deep slashes that run from his left shoulder across his chest, you make a start on cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. You ignore his minute flinches and grunts of pain. 

"Pull yourself together, Ford. It's your own damn fault you ended up like this so suck it up!"   
A beat of silence passes and you look up to meet Ford's gaze, suddenly aware of how close your faces are. He smirks.   
"Your bedside manner is appalling."  
"Shut up."   
"Make me."   
You roll your eyes and press down just a little too hard on the smallest of the gashes. Ford yelps and fixes you with a petulant glare.   
"Thank you." You smile sweetly.   
Once the worst of Ford's injuries are cleaned, you stand up and wash your hands thoroughly in the sink.   
"Can you stand?"   
Stanford nods and you carefully ease him up and over to a chair.   
"You'll need stitches in a few of these. They're too deep to leave."   
Ford nods and you grab the medical kit as you sit in the chair opposite him. A few minutes of silence pass while you organise the equipment you need. You've learnt from past incidents like this that it always pays to be prepared when it comes to Ford Pines. Thankfully, you invested in some more advanced medical supplies a few weeks back.   
"This will hurt, but try not to move too much if you can help it."   
You start to piece Ford back together, gently stitching the worst of his wounds shut. Allowing him a couple of minutes of breathing time between each laceration, you make relatively quick work of his chest, wrapping his freshly stitched cuts securely with gauze. 

"That'll do for now." You sigh as you pack up the bits and pieces you've used. "Don't move too much, alright? You could tear the stitches."   
"I won't." Stanford smiles warmly, looking a little better than he did an hour ago.   
"Let me fix up your face while I'm here, your brother'll think I've been beating you up." You chuckle, grabbing a small bottle of chamomile lotion. Ford laughs under his breath.   
"Like you could do that."   
You raise an eyebrow as you take his chin between your thumb and forefinger and begin to apply the lotion to bruises blooming across the older man's face.   
"I could kick your ass, Pines."  
"Oh yeah? Maybe I'll let you try one day if you play your cards right." He gives you a wink that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks flare hotly.   
You put the bottle back into the kit.   
"All done. It's not perfect but it'll do for now."   
You go to stand, but Ford stops you with a hand on your knee. You pause.   
"Thank you." He says, sincerity clear in his voice.   
You go to answer, but he speaks over you.   
"Not just for sewing me up, but for coming here as soon as I called. I shouldn't have panicked you like that, I-I'm sorry I-"   
You cut him off, suddenly overcome with his honesty, and press a kiss to his mouth.   
"I thought I told you to shut up...." You murmur. Ford grins, the usual cheeky glint back in his eyes.   
"And I though I told you to make me."   
That startles a laugh out of you; one that's quickly stopped as Ford kisses you again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It's past 1am when you finally manage to get Ford into his bed. You help him out of his dirtied slacks, rolling your eyes at his dumb attempts to flirt as you strip him and tuck him in.   
You sit on the edge of the bed, smoothing Ford's hair back gently.   
"Do you want me to stay?" You whisper, afraid that if you speak too loudly you'll break the calmness of the room.   
Ford nods, once, and sighs as he relaxes under the sheets.   
"I'll sleep on the couch. Yell if you need anything, yeah?" You mumble through a stifled yawn.   
"Wait-" Ford catches your wrist. "Sleep with me."   
He realises the double entendre a second after he's spoken, flushing deep red.   
"I-I-uh, I didn't mean it like that! But that's- I don't mean I wouldn't- that's to say I'd very much like to-" 

You can't help it; you burst out laughing.   
"Ford, you're the dumbest smart guy I know."   
You lean over and kiss his cheek before you start to undress, piling your now-ruined clothes at the foot of the bed. Once you're down to your underwear, you steal a t-shirt from Stanford's closet to pull on and you climb into bed next to him.   
You settle against his side, mindful of the stitches, and close your eyes.   
"For the record, Ford?"  
"Mm?"  
"I'd very much like to sleep with you too."


End file.
